On a normal day in 2006, I woke up. My eyes opened quietly and I realized with horror that I was living someone else’s life. I was married to a man I barely liked, working a dead-end job in the same Midwestern town I was born in, and trapped under years of “shoulds” and “this is how things are dones.”

This morning, I withdrew my candidacy for an executive position that would have paid me nearly six-figures. The closer I got to the offer, the more I knew what I needed to do: withdraw. The position included frequent work-sponsored trips to locations all over the world.

By 24, I had flunked college, married the first boy that looked at me, and gotten a divorce - a big deal in a small Midwest town.

By 26, I was the head of marketing for an international hospitality company, writing a blog followed by thousands, remarried to the dashing and sexy-as-hell love of my life, and living in beautiful sunny San Diego

In 2014, I owned a thriving business that made me good money. I had customers all over the world and even celebrities wearing my products. It was awesome, except I HATED it. I’d become a slave to my business.